


But I still feel the same

by ccjasper



Category: Vocaloid
Genre: M/M, fukase is a criminal and piko is an idol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 16:38:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13884852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ccjasper/pseuds/ccjasper
Summary: All things considered, Piko leads a rather quiet and simple life. During a bank robbery, he's isn't surprised when the criminals seem to recognize him, but is quite surprised when they retreat once confirming his identity. Only later does he find that his high school sweetheart, Fukase, is now the proud runner of a global crime syndicate. Not only this, but has Piko placed on a "speciallist. Piko decides to pay him a visit... After he actually tracks him down, of course.





	But I still feel the same

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warning: guns/robbery, nothing too graphic

Considering his profession, Piko’s life was fairly simple and uneventful - set aside performance nights and the occasional fan he met on the street who wanted an autograph or selfie with him. He wasn’t popular enough as an idol to be recognized left and right on the streets every time he set foot out of the house, but he wasn’t so obscure that he was hardly making it by. This worked out perfectly well for him.

He had just gotten dressed and was just about ready to set foot out the door when a familiar vibration and quiet ringtone started going off from his pocket. He answered.

“Hello?”  
_ “Piko! I’m just calling to let you know that rehearsal was cancelled today. You’ve been working quite a bit lately, take the day off.”  _ His manager's voice held the familiar cheer she had answered with every time there was an update to his schedule.  
“Alright.” He replied, an irritated sigh following shortly after he hung up the phone.

 

He set his bag down, a little grumpy now. He dressed rather well, nothing fancy because his stage clothes were strictly just that; stage clothes, but he’d taken special care in making sure his hair was nicely done and that he looked quite presentable. Measures that he wouldn’t usually go to if he were to just ‘take a day off’ at home. 

Piko decided to use this time to finally get around to cashing in a check he’d received some time ago - for what? He couldn’t remember. Perhaps it was a paycheck of some sort, but it mattered little. Money was money. 

 

Getting to the bank wasn’t anything unusual, nor was a sweet lady holding the door for him when they entered at around the same time, and the long lines were certainly on the ‘completely normal’ list. His head was turned to the front when the first bang sounded. Unable to see the entrance, he assumed someone had just dropped something heavy for a heartbeat after flinching. This was a quick- to-flee assumption as what followed was certainly not what would follow after something dropped.

What followed was a - masked - grown man shouting instructions to sit along the back wall, while two other men stood by the entrance. While unusual, it was exactly how you’d expect a bank robbery to go. Those who did not obey either got shoved to the back or shot. Piko, of course, went along with their directions. Listening carefully to everything, he could have sworn he heard a couple of the armed men whisper his name amongst themselves in conversation. A couple men went down the line collecting wallets into a bag while another was up at the front harassing the woman at the register for anything they had. It was discovered that his ears were not deceiving him when it came time for a man to be in front of him, he could only see the mans shoes. Rather than instructing him to give up his wallet and any of his belongings on him like the others had been, he was a little shocked to be told something else.

“Look at me.” The man instructed, and Piko did as he was told. Along with observing and taking notes on the shape of the man he was looking up at, he couldn’t help but be looking up the barrel of a small gun as well. “Tell me your name.”

Not only did Piko not like the tone of voice he was given, he also didn’t trust his voice very much. He kept his mouth shut, doing his best not to glare at the attacker; whose finger moved to the trigger in response to his silence. With a few more stubborn seconds of silence, he finally caved. “Utatane Piko.”

The man in front of him suddenly became visibly agitated, his finger moving off of the trigger. In most cases, you’d think someone would be smart enough to keep their damn mouth shut after this. Piko was decidedly not ‘most people’ and maybe he wasn’t super smart, but smartass definitely fit the mood right now- “What, do you want an autograph?” He remarked. Only to be ignored, not fans? That rose some questions, what other reason would he have to become visibly afraid of him? It’s not like he was some pro-wrestler or bullet-proof man.

It rose even more questions for him once the man went back over to his buddies, and they left with haste. That could have been the distant sirens prompting them to leave, however.

 

After this, his days were normal once again. At least, for a while. It took a few days before he got an unusual knock on his apartment door, one he wasn’t expecting.  _ A door to door salesman? No, they don’t show up in apartments, so what could it… _ He opened the door, a policeman and a man with a briefcase - perhaps another policeman, but he didn’t share the same uniform - stood there. His mind began to race- had there been a death in the family? Was he framed for something? Why would police be at his door-   
“Hello!” Piko answered the door with a smile, trying his best to mask his concerns. “Come in, come in.” He opened the door wider, allowing the two men to step inside. “Please take your shoes off at the door.”

He invited the two to his living room and brought out a bowl of sweets for the coffee table. “May I ask what brings you here today?” He finally asked.

He was given a nod in response from the man with the briefcase, “I’m Tonio, and this is my partner, Al. We’d just like to ask you a few questions if that’s alright.” Piko audibly sighed in relief, not a death or anything. This was fine. Given the okay from Piko in the form of a nod, Tonio pulled out a file from his briefcase, went through it and pulled out a couple photos. “Do you know who this man is?” Taking a peek at the photo, Piko was met with not only a shock, but a familiar face he hadn’t seen in years.

“Fukase? What about him?” Piko asked, observing the photo. Was this really him? His face was half-covered by a mask, and the collar of his shirt covered his face just enough on the other side so he couldn’t really tell the precise shape of it, not to mention it wasn’t really the highest quality of photos either. The last time he’d seen Fukase was sometime in high school, the two had dated for just about all of it before breaking up so they could focus on their grades. If this was him, he had probably matured quite a bit. The last Piko could recall, he had a much rounder face and quite prominent freckles, and the mask covered what would have been burn scars all over that side of his face.

The now-apparent detective sitting across from him hesitated a moment, probably picking his cards carefully about the questions he wanted to ask. “What is your relationship with this man?”   
“None, not anymore.” Piko shrugged, “We were friends in high school.” Tonio nodded, staying silent as if he expected Piko to keep talking. “That’s it.” Not completely a lie, but Piko was afraid if he had confessed that he and Fukase had dated and that he was the best friend he’d ever had around that time, he would become less credible and perhaps they’d even think he was lying to protect his high school sweetheart from authorities.

“Can you tell me his surname?” He asked, and Piko thought for a moment-   
“I can’t recall it, apologies. I’m not sure if I ever knew it.”   
“This man calls himself ‘Red’, and runs a global crime syndicate, and from the looks of things it would appear that you’re on his no-harm list.” Tonio started going through his case again, seemingly getting frustrated after a moment or two. “I don’t have it with me, it appears. We arrested one of the men at the bank the other day, he confessed that you were on a ‘no-harm’ list. If you have nothing else to say, we will take our leave.”

Piko sat there, dumbfounded. Fukase? A criminal? No way. He was the sweetest guy in the world, wouldn’t hurt a fly. “...Yeah.. I’ll- I’ll see you to the door.” His voice was small as he stood up, trying to process this information as he led the two to the door and shut it behind them once they’d left.

A no-harm list? What was that supposed to mean? He couldn’t possibly remember Piko after all these years, let alone still have any feelings towards him. Maybe he should pay Fukase a visit- if he didn’t want Piko harmed, then he was sure he’d be safe enough to go see him in person. Being afraid of Fukase would be like being afraid of a newborn puppy. He’s harmless.  
Right?

 

The first step to finding Fukase was to visit his parents - if Fukase’s location wasn’t found out by now, then that would have to be because either his parents were protecting him or the authorities didn’t know enough about him to trace his parents down. His parents were definitely the type to protect him from things like this, but Fukase was also quite clever, so he wouldn’t be surprised either way. 

  
  


It wasn’t hard to get Fukase’s address from his parents, especially considering that in their time during high school together, Piko had been to Fukase’s house more than enough times to be familiar with his parents and vice versa. His parents loved Piko, all he had to tell them was that he wanted to reconnect with his old friend and he got all the information he needed to locate Fukase.

On his way there, he’d thought of all the things he would say to him. Things like “Fukase, it was over in high school.”, “This no-harm thing isn’t necessary.” and “Why are you still thinking of me so many years later?”. Most of them could probably fit into some cheesy drama or anime, maybe an anime drama? He kept thinking up scripts, looking for something he thought sounded super cool. About half of these scripts were voided once the door was answered.

Piko had to look down at the boy who answered the door - a rare occurrence because Piko wasn’t super tall himself - he had blond hair and a good half of his face was covered by bandages. 

“Hello! I’m looking for Fukase. Do you know where he might be?” He asked, in the kind of voice you’d expect a grown man to use when addressing a stranger 12-year-old. The expression his face twisted into brought its own message across very well; kid clearly took offence to this tone of voice.   
“Who are you?” The kid responded with an irritated tone, laced in a heavy British accent.

“A childhood friend looking to reconnect.” Piko responded mostly-honestly, dropping the patronizing tone. The kid, in turn, gave him a new address to go to. Piko thanked him and left.

 

It was a place he’d never been before, so getting there wasn’t as much of a piece of cake as the rest of tracking him down had been. It took him a solid hour to find the right street, and another half hour before he found the right building, but that part was mostly to blame for the child's poor handwriting skills. After he finally stepped into the building, he found himself letting himself into Fukases office in no time.

 

“Don’t you know how to knock?” A vaguely familiar voice snapped at him, but not looking up from his desk. Piko stared at him, trying to pick from the many things he had prepared to say, but every time he thought he’d collected his thoughts they’d scramble again, it was like trying to grab water with bare hands from a running tap. “Well?” Fukase spoke again as he turned spun his chair around -  _ didn’t he mention in high school wanting an office job for the sole purpose of spinning a chair around like so? Nerd. Hard to believe he stuck with tha-  _ Piko felt as if he lost his voice completely upon seeing Fukase’s face, and his old friend seemed equally as surprised to see him, too. “...Oh.”

Neither of them dare talk for several minutes. Piko felt his face warming up in each passing second. Fukase had certainly hit a growth spurt since their last meeting. He looked quite… grown up, compared to the last time they met. His face went from round to rather defined, and his scars had faded quite a bit - they were still  _ very _ visible, but they looked much more natural and fitting.

In short, he had gotten much hotter than cuter.

 

Finally, the silence broke. “You can take a seat…” Fukase said, tilting his head to the side to gesture to where a small couch was neatly sitting against the wall. “What brings you here?” Fukase asked, his eye trained on Piko as he made his way and sat on the couch, next to the arm as far away as he possibly could from Fukase’s desk. 

He struggled to find words, and when he did, he couldn’t help the way his voice felt like it was shaking, and he had to avert his eyes in order to complete any of his thoughts. Where was he even supposed to start with this? What if everything he heard about him was wrong? Maybe it was all a set-up. “W-Well, I, er- heard some things? I guess.”

Fukase jumped from his seat, the chair rolling back and hitting the desk behind him, knocking some stuff out of place on impact. He ignored this, instead making his way over to sit beside Piko. “What kind of things could lead you here? Hmm?” Piko looked over at him with a small smile. Fukase clearly did not lose his friendly and touchy-feely self, so  _ how _ could he possibly run or even participate in any criminal organizations?  When Piko didn’t give an answer, his friend pretended to think for a bit.

“The police showed up at my house,” Piko answered, albeit a bit late. Fukase seemed to understand enough to know that Piko knew about some of the stuff he was up to.

“Oh? So you know of my exploits!” Fukase clasped his hands together, seemingly pleased by this.   
“Not extensively… They just asked me about you.” He still felt nervous and small, but the positive energy from Fukase was helping tremendously. Piko was right, Fukase wasn’t to be feared.

“Mmm, okay. You didn’t tell them much, did you?” Fukases good hand found its way a-top of Pikos as he leaned closer - not holding onto his hand or anything, just resting atop of it. Piko wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to respond to this. Fukase was always pretty touchy-feely, but the way his voice went from happy-go-lucky to almost rather serious made him quite nervous.

“Just your name... First name.” Piko replied, and any trace of him being so serious had vanished. Along with the whole topic once he quit staring and got around to talking to him.

“Y’know, you’ve gotten really cute. Totally worth missin’ you that much.” Fukase said, leaning back from Piko once again to look at him from his normal, slightly taller, height and retracting his hand. “Did I get a little too close for comfort?” He smiled. A genuine smile to accompany the light teasing.

“No! No- No, it’s alright. Just a little surprised, I guess.” Piko smiled back, still nervous but starting to relax around him again. How could this man participate in criminal activities if he was still kind enough to make sure he was respecting boundaries?

“That’s good.” He moved a little closer to Piko again, “It’s been a long time.”   
“Yeah..” Piko instinctively went to lean on him, something he used to do a lot when they were teenagers, Fukase responded by placing his hand on Piko’s shoulder. It took a minute before Piko realized what he was doing and went to sit up, “S-”

“Ah! No, please stay-” Fukase pulled him back down to how he was leaning on him previously, “I like this- and.. having you around, why else would I take extra caution to keep you alive and well?” Piko’s stomach sank at the reminder, but he was too comfortable in his exes embrace to think too hard about it. His comfort felt too natural for the reality of Fukase being some huge mystery wanted criminal to feel, well, real.

“It’s been too long for you to be sure, Fu.” Piko sighed, relaxing further into his position. Or has it? Piko was certainly enjoying himself - even if he was a bit embarrassed - but that could easily just be him being touch-starved and afraid of publicly having a significant other.   
“Says you. Besides, I see you enough on TV to know you haven’t changed much.” Fukase ran his other hand through Piko’s hair idly, “You like being here too, don’t you?”

Feeling called out but not ready to admit that he was right, Piko’s face began to dust red again, “I- ..Maybe...”

Fukase chuckled quietly, looking down at Piko for a few moments. “Can I kiss you?” Piko shot up, his face beet red.

“Y-You can’t just ask that! We haven’t talked for years, we’re not even  _ dating _ anymore-” Piko began frantically, his fluster evident from much, much more than the dark shade of his cheeks.

Fukase shrugged, “Would you have rather I didn’t ask?” He asked, a smug smile resting on his face. “I could have easily not asked.”

“I-I-I.. I.. Alright, you make a fair point... And, er, g-go ahead.” Piko had a hard time keeping his eyes in one place, but Fukase was happy to pull Piko onto his lap. With an arm around the small of Piko’s back, and the opposite hand on the backside of his neck, Fukase pressed quick and soft pecks to just about anywhere above Piko’s shoulders that he could reach, much like he used to do when the two were teenagers left alone in a room for once in a blue moon.

It all felt too familiar to them both, but that was part of the enjoyment, Piko supposed. This went on for a good twenty, thirty seconds before Fukase grew tired of this and stopped to press his lips against Piko’s. Fukase’s lips were just as soft as Piko had expected, as they had always been. It felt like they were teenagers again, except they weren’t.

They were a law-abiding semi-famous idol and the leader of some big criminal thing that Piko didn’t quite understand.

 

But that’s a worry for another time, when they’re not trying to relive the past.


End file.
